


Not like you

by PAPERHATDUDE



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: M/M, and hes dick Greyson in college, batman is super g a y (dont tell him tho), don't come at me with pitchforks ok ill try to be original, fight me, get ready for people not trusting each other!! and people not communicating!!!, havent really decided on a plot yet, hey batman your sensitive side is showing better Not do anything about that, in google docs its called 'so im doing this shit again', its inconsistent don't harm me, kinda from the jokers pov usually, like btas, my joker is halfway between the lego one and BTAS, robin is here, the titles dumb I know, uh, welcome to the plot of every batjokes fanfiction ever, yea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-10-08 12:30:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10386708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAPERHATDUDE/pseuds/PAPERHATDUDE
Summary: Not like you; a tale of morally dubious heroes, the unsanctioned kidnapping of villains, an unforeseen-at least to those directly involved in the matter-romance, bad jokes and a troubling amount of handcuffs





	1. PSA hitting people over the head is not a safe way to knock them out

**Author's Note:**

> the other title for this was 'godamn I don't see enough of these two doing stupid shit together lets wreck my sleep schedule'

Lightning cracks overhead and rain soaks into his suit. His eyeliner streaks down his face. Not really his look, but there's nothing to be done right now. The shadows next to him twist and now someone stands behind him broodily. 

“You’re not difficult to find.” The Joker doesn't turn to face him. His hand creeps towards the detonator in his pocket slowly.

“Who says I was ever trying to hide?” The sound of plastic and polymer rubbing together is soft, but the Joker can hear it. He tenses his shoulders. 

“You broke out of Arkham and haven’t been seen in weeks.”

“Aw, were you worried about me? You know a girl’s gotta have a little vacation every once in a while.” A low growl from behind him. He can almost feel the Bat’s eyes narrowing. 

“You're up to something, I can tell.”

“Of course I'm up to something!” He spins around now, and woah the Bat is closer than he thought. “When am I not up to something? It's what I do. And-” here he pokes Batsy in the chest, diverting his attention as he plunges his hand into his pocket, fingers curling around the detonator, “You need to cut it with the clichés Bats, we both know I'm going to get away with something big enough for you to do something drastic eventually.”

Water drips down the mask. Water splashes into puddles. The roof is too cold and Joker shivers. The Bat does not. 

“Eventually,” he grabs the Joker by the necktie, “you'll be in Arkham.” Laughter echoes out over the rooftops. He would be rolling on the floor if he could. The grip on his tie tightens. He coughs over-dramatically, pulling the detonator from his pocket and hiding it behind his back. 

“It never stopped me before, Bat boy!” So, he pulls away, his clip-on tie coming off as he runs for the edge, “say goodbye to your precious police pals!” He waves the remote, cackling. His socks squish in his shoes and he cringes. Something cold and sharp slices his fingers, breaking open skin and letting blood run down his hand. His fingers tremble as he tries to press the button, too slick with blood to hold on to it for much longer. It slips from his hand, but he can hear the Bat close behind him and he can only pray it lands face down. One foot, two feet now, over the edge and he was almost

Falling

 

His knuckles hurt and his ankle hurts and damn if he doesn't feel like his tie is choking him. His fingers twitch, congealed blood coating them where he had been cut. He reaches up to touch his throat. No tie. Huh. He swallows and winces. 

“Are you alright?” Cracking one eye open reveals the interior of the Batmobile. 

“Mmmn.” Blue and red and green lights flash tiny pinpricks in the dark interior. “Where's my tie?” A large hand rubs the back of his head, thickly padded fingers carding through his hair clumsily. He leans into the touch, realizing just how much his head hurts. 

“What do you remember?” The hand goes back to the steering wheel and Joker rubs his eyes. His fingertips come away stained black and he wonders vaguely if it was the threat of concussion that had Bats worried enough to touch his hair. Roof, rain, fingers twitching towards his pocket. Squishy socks. Over the edge of the-

“Oh.”

The Bat shifts next to him and stretches his neck. A beat. Two. 

“We weren't that high up, I could've-”

“No. You couldn't have. You're lucky the bomb didn't go off. I might not have had time-” He swallows audibly. 

“Sorry?”

“You're not.”

“Alright.” He smooths his jacket and rolls his ankle. A twinge of pain shoots up his leg. A curious head tilt next to him. It's almost cute. “Gotta look my best for the white suits,” he explains, “no fun in going back if they lock me down with the rats again.” He smiles and slicks his hair back. 

“I'm not taking you back there.”

“What.”

“They can't help you.” Joker lets out a short barking laugh and pats him on the shoulder. 

“You can teach an old Bat new tricks!” He sits up eagerly, looking around like a child who's been told there's a dog somewhere nearby. “Where are we headed, Bats? County jail? Haven't been there in a while. Or,” he leans close to Batman's mask, grinning even wider, “we could skip town, go to Vegas. We won't stand out much there, believe you me.”

“We're not- I'm,” the Bat slumps in his seat, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “I don't know what to do with you. I'm taking you back to the Batcave until I get this figured out.” The Batcave. What a treat! Not once had Batsy ever taken him home before. How scandalous. 

“I thought you wanted me far away from your toys. Am I going to be handcuffed and kept in a cage?” Oh-so innocently batted eyelashes. Damn that mask. He can tell the Bat is uncomfortable, but he would like to watch his face while he squirmed. 

“I'm going to give you a chance. Don't make me regret it.”

“I'm sure you won't.” The Bat reaches over. Joker preens in joy, delighting in the thought of-

Wham. For the second time that day, the world stops.


	2. Almost everyone is displeased with the situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wOAH is that a perspective change halfway through the chapter? Yes it is because having it all from Jokers POV was making me s t r u g g l e.

He wakes up handcuffed to a pipe in a bathroom, back pressed against hard tile. He groans and sits up, head throbbing. He's met with glowing blue eyes again. 

“Huh. I'm sensing a strange lack of trust here.” The Bat goes back to wrapping his ankle. His knuckles are already bandaged and he can feel stitches when he moves them. The Bat isn't wearing his suit anymore. He looks funny in his mask and an old t-shirt and sweatpants. Joker laughs. The Bat without his wings. Still looks strong enough to beat him senseless, so he stifles his giggles with a fist. The bathroom looks normal, aside from his blood staining the floor and the medical supplies strewn across the tiles. There's also a comically large lock on the door. The Bat finishes wrapping his ankle and snips the gauze. He catches the Joker eyeing the scissors and puts them into his pocket. 

“You're filthy and bloody. Take a shower.” He starts gathering the medical supplies into a bin. After a moment of hesitation, he reaches into his pocket and padlocks the vanity mirror. 

“Can't really do much of anything with these handcuffs on, big guy.” The Bat is so much more emotive without the suit. Joker can see his muscles tense and his fingers waver. He's got some nice arms. Setting the bin of bandages, needles and rubbing alcohol on the toilet, he bends down and unlocks the handcuffs. Joker rubs his wrist, smirking as Batman quickly pulls away. He stays on the floor, not about to have himself knocked out three times in one day. The Bat grabs the bin and mutters something about not trying anything funny before hurrying out of the room. The door clicks shut behind him. 

 

Alone in the bat-hroom at last. Pfft. The Joker straightens up and brushes some of the accumulated debris and water onto the floor. Digging through several pockets, he produces a marble, a pair of old chopsticks he'd kept for some unfathomable reason, many rubber bands, a handful of assorted cosmetics, two bundles of wire and, taking off his shoes, a bobby pin. That padlock looked like it needed a helping hand, and what was he here to do but be an upstanding citizen? 

Inside the mirror were several pill bottles, which he pockets, a toothbrush, nail clippers, extra soap and a hand towel. The lock on the actual door doesn't have any openings on his side. Looks technological too. Not a job for trusty Mr. bobby pin. He grimly contemplates the shower. The Bat was right, he is disgusting. He looks at himself in the mirror. His hair is wet and greasy, his suit rumpled and covered in blood, water, gravel and anything else he'd picked up along the way. 

 

Bruce Wayne is an idiot. Groaning, he pulls off his mask so he can better rub at his temples, which are pounding. Probably from how much of an idiot he is. He checks the security camera again, making sure the Joker isn't- aand he's managed to open the vanity and is now shoving pill bottles into his pockets. Great. Just great. 

Bruce’s phone pings, startling him out of his half rage half beating himself mentally over how dumb he is stupor. A message from Alfred. Placing his cowl on the control panel, Bruce hurries upstairs. 

“Master Bruce,” Alfred greets him at the top of the stairs, “the computer said two passengers came home tonight, is Master Greyson going to be staying for dinner, or. . . ?”

“I’m afraid no one as savory. I’ve got the Joker locked in the downstairs bathroom.” 

“Ah.” Alfred peers down the stairs to the Batcave as Bruce shuts the door. “Are you sure he’s secure?” Bruce nods, walking into the dining room. He can feel Alfred's disapproving gaze on his back.

“Look, he jumped off a roof and-” turning back to face Alfred while he says this is hard, but he does it anyway, “I just couldn't leave him there. Or take him back to Arkham.” A raised eyebrow.

“Jumping off a roof seems like a regular walk in the park for him and his thugs, not to mention you, Master Bruce.” 

“He didn't have a way down.” Bruce runs his hand through his hair. “No jetpack, no trampoline, no nothing. He didn’t even fight me.” The Joker always worried him, but this was different. This wasn't worry in the Oh-god-is-he-going-to-kill-my-friends way, but in an is-he-okay way. Bruce did not like it one bit. “I’m going to take dinner downstairs, for two if you don't mind. And bring down an extra set of clothes. The ones he's wearing are filthy.” 

“Very good, master Bruce.” Back down to the pit he goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I have one more chapter written and not a lot of free time to write another one at the moment so expect one on Friday and the next on Monday if I get a chance to write. This chapter is a bit shorter and I'm not realy happy about that but hey.  
> Edit: also I have a plot now. WHOOHOO! 
> 
> Edit #2: sorry guys no chapter today I have had no time to write and am working on a big project rn.


	3. P, B, & mista J

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh is that the beginning of a plot I spy on the horizon? 
> 
> ... maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The B stands for Batman.
> 
> Warning kiddos there is in fact a fuck word up ahead so if you don't like that, you're welcome to stop reading!

Joker emerged from the shower wondering why he hadn't thrown himself off a rooftop earlier. Getting into the Batcave, having better medical attention than those idiots at Arkham could ever provide, and best of all the shower. Batsy sure has some high-class water pressure and Joker is ready to stay in it for at least forever. Maybe a little longer. 

A new set of clothes sits on the toilet and his purple suit is nowhere to be seen. Dang. He’d wanted to look his best for the Batcave, but luck sure was a fickle thing today. 

He dresses himself in sweatpants and a far too big black tshirt. A quick glance in the mirror and a scowl at his reflection. All his makeup had been in his coat pockets and he felt uncomfortable without it. His hair drips onto his shoulders and he runs his fingers through it. Good enough for now. 

He steps closer to the door and bangs on it with his fist. 

“Hey Batsy! I'm all decent, why don't you let me out and show me around?” No response. Typical. “Come on Bats, I'm getting bored. I start breaking things when I'm bored.” Not that there's much to break in the bathroom, but he'll find a way. He bangs on the door again, and again. “You shouldn't have nabbed me if-”

The door opens suddenly and Batman catches Jokers fist before it can hit him in the face. The Bat doesn't look particularly happy under the cowl. 

“I was aiming for the door, honest.” Joker pulls his hand away, peering around Batman's imposing figure. “Am I allowed out or are you going to knock me out again?” Bah, he's asking too many questions, seeming too desperate. The Bat holds up a pair of handcuffs. Joy of joys. 

“You're going to eat something, and then we're going to talk. If you don't put on the handcuffs I'll leave you here. Understand?”

“Oh Bats, I didn't think you cared!” Joker holds out his wrists with a smile. He can almost hear the eye-roll through the mask. 

 

Once Joker is handcuffed all nice and snug Batman escorts him out of the bathroom. He ooh and ahhs appropriately at the sheer size of the cave, the batmobile parked off to the side, the little hallway leading to a collection of souvenirs from villains, the training hall. Batman doesn't seem to appreciate his appreciation though. 

They end up sitting near a large computer terminal, which he is a little bit jealous of. Not that he needs fancy-shmancy computer stuff but it's the principle of the thing. Edward would be raving over how much it would help his crime spree. 

“Say Bats, how much does this old thing cost? If I didn't know better I'd say you scammed it out of someone.” He laughs, patting a side panel gently. Batman glares and pushes a plate toward him. Where had he gotten that from? 

“Eat.” 

“How do you know I'm not allergic to sandwiches?”

“Because you're asking that. I didn’ even make it, so stop whining.” 

“Eat something made by a total stranger I've never met? No siree bob.”

“Have you never been to a restaurant? You don't meet the people who make your food there either.” 

“I guess. But still! You could have poisoned it, or worse.”

“What's worse than poi- actually I don't want to know.”

 

“Well-”

“For gods sakes just eat the goddamn sandwich you look like a fucking twig.” He angrily takes a bite out of his own sandwich. “See?” He says around a mouthful of bread, “It's fine. Just shut up and eat.” Joker glares at the PB&J on his plate. Sighing dramatically, he takes a bite. Since he's already made a fuss he can't crack a joke about Batman being able to cook. Damnit. He never thinks ahead, does he? 

Batman stands up, leaving the half-eaten sandwich on his plate, and walks over to the chair in the middle of the computer-pad-area-thingy. The whole setup is melodramatically ostentatious, to borrow a few words that give off a similar impression. He taps a few keys, and pulls up some extra windows. 

From his vantage point on the floor Joker can't see exactly what's on the screen, and he can't get up either. Because he's handcuffed to the floor. There are specific floor-indents to handcuff people to on Batman's computer terminal. And they say he's the crazy one. 

“Robin and Batgirl disabled your bomb after I brought you back here.” Light from the screen flickers over batman's cowl. “It's not like you to leave things up to chance.” He's smirking, the fucker. Jokers knuckles are still throbbing from the batarang he took on the roof. 

“Spent too much time hanging around Half-Wit I guess. Doctors made us share a cell.” He snorts, remembering how the two-bit villain reacted when the doctors started spouting nonsense about ‘good examples’ and ‘behavioral testing’. The experiment had only lasted a week before they were both begging to be separated. The up-two-chance-shtick could get old when it was applied to every. Single. Goddamn. Thing. 

Batman turns, frowning. “They made you share a cell?”

“Harley and Pam share a cell and I don't see you making a fuss over that. Course, if Harley wasn't there it'd just take Pams breath away. Ha!” Joker takes another bite out of his sandwich, waving a hand as he explained. “It's something about us getting along. Being pals, you know. Old Harv and I don't have the best history but do we get a say? No way!”

More button tapping. The computer dings, and some flashing red windows pop up on the screen. Batman grabs Joker by the arm, quickly unhandcuffing him and pulling him back towards the bathroom. 

“Commissioner, tell me what's going on.” Batman speaks into a communicator in his cowl. Joker sticks his tongue out when he hears a faint staticky response. “Wayne tower? I'll be right over.” 

Joker drags his heels on the floor, putting up as much resistance as possible. “Oh come on you're not going to stick me back in your bathroom, are you?” Batman growls, and Joker ahem, squeaks, as he's hoisted onto Batman's shoulder. 

“I don't have time for this, there's a hostage situation and you are slowing me down. Behave until I get back.” He heaves Joker unceremoniously into the bathroom. Landing on the tile Joker rolls onto his side, pouting up at the caped crusader. 

“But Baaatmaaan I wanna see all the pretty explosions.” The door slams in his face. It's worth it though, as he can hear quick footfalls, and a large thump. He howls in laughter, receiving muffled curses through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it looks like the next updates gonna be on Wednesday. But keep an eye out, because I am very inconsistent. *party horns*


	4. Batman Sure Likes To Drive Around In That Car Of His Thinking About His Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey is that a plot??
> 
> No?
> 
> Alright then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhey sorry for not updating for literal months  
> I just entirely forgot about this
> 
> forgive me?

Wayne tower is lit with police lights, and quiet radio chatter fills the misty air. Commissioner Gordon nods as an officer reports back to him. Police officers keep muttering civilians behind yellow tape. Former hostages sit in the backs of ambulances, dazed but alive. Commissioner Gordon pats the officer on the shoulder, striding towards the lurking shape of Batman. 

"As always, the police force commends and is mildly angry about your help. I think Bullocks going to have an aneurysm." The caped crusader nods, looking towards two policemen wrestling an angry Harvey Dent into the back of a police car. The Commissioner sighs, crossing his arms. 

"Where's the Joker?" Batman blinks, wondering if he should tell the commissioner what happened. 

"He had a bomb planted at the police station, I told you yesterday when I came to dis-" 

"And he hasn't been back to Arkham since. I'm betting you didn't let him get away just to save us down at the precinct, so where is he?" Batman seems to slump, all the foreboding-ness evaporating from his stature. 

"I have him secure. I can't have him loose anymore." I can't let him go back to Arkham. "I need to make sure Gotham is safe." Commissioner Gordon shakes his head. 

"Batman, he's secure in Arkham- most of the time- and we don't need your focus divided." The air is damp with mist. Two Face yells incoherently in the distance. "Are you keeping Gotham safe, or him?" 

Batman doesn't respond, turning away and storming towards the Batmobile. The Commissioner watches him go. 

 

On the ride back to the Batcave he's angry with himself. The Joker shouldn't be in his home- so close to everyone he loves. The Clown will only ruin any shreds of happiness he has left. A light flashes on the dashboard and he ignores the call from Alfred. Joker deserves to be locked up. 

But the way he tossed himself off that building like he expected there to be ground beneath his feet, like he knew he'd be caught. Something about that assuredness was calming to Bruce. The sun went up, the police were incompetent, Alfred was there for him, and he'd always have the Joker.   
He answers the call when it came again. 

"Bruce, there's a situation-" muffled yelling comes from outside the range of the video call, cutting off Alfred's exasperated tone of voice. "-in the Batcave. I see from the news you've managed to defuse the situation at Wayne Tower, but please hurry back." 

"Alfred, what's going on?" Batman drums his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently staring at a red light. He's got to get Commissioner Gordon to give him a siren one of these days. "Are you in trouble? Did Joker escape?" 

"Nothing so drastic sir, but I should inform you that Master Dick is home. 

"Alright, but wha-" 

"And he found the Joker." 

"Ah." 

 

The rest of the drive home is spent in a panic, Bruce arguing with himself about how he should have put the Joker in a more secure place, counter arguments about how he didn't have enough time, that Two Face was always messing everything up, (a moment of guilt that he always felt when he thought about how he failed Harvey) and frustration with the traffic. 

He swerved, heading off the main road and towards the entrance to the Batcave. From what he could tell from the video call, Dick wasn't going to be too pleased about him keeping the Joker in their base of operations. 

The door hidden in a wall of vegetation slides open as the Batmobile rockets through it, and Batman nearly leaps out of the car and towards the source of the -ongoing- yelling. Sure enough, it's coming from the bathroom that he locked Joker in. As he drew closer he could make out some of what Dick was shouting. None of it was nice. 

Richard Greyson, still in his Robin outfit thank god, had the Joker by the front of his shirt and was yelling. Alfred stood to the side, looking frustrated and occasionally trying to speak over him. Joker was- Joker had his handcuffed hands up in front of his face as if he expected an attack of some kind, like he was defending himself. He was laughing, shoulders hunched and shaking while he endured the verbal assault. 

"ROBIN," Batman growled, stepping into the light where he could be seen. "Put Joker down." 

"What?" Robin spun around, one hand still firmly knotted in the fabric of Jokers shirt. "Why is he even here? Br-Batman, he needs to be locked up! He should be in Arkham right now." 

"He was locked up before you got here. You and I need to talk. Come upstairs." Bruce detangled Joker from Robin's grasp and steered him back towards the bathroom. Joker muttered to himself under his breath, letting out a harsh bark of laughter afterward. 

"My Dark Knight in shining armor." Joker whispered, catching his breath. 

"Wait here." The Joker nods, going back into the bathroom without a struggle. The lock clunks into place. When he turns around, his expression is in full on stern parent mode. They really need to have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, I am so sorry about not updating. and I can't promise that I'll be better in the future.   
> If you like it maybe bookmark it? does that ping you when a chapter goes up?
> 
> tbh I'm getting back into batman a lot recently so I should do more of this soon.


	5. Could I Have One (1) Emotion, To Go Please?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family meeting and some harsh words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooooooooooo I'm actually inspired recently! get a load of another chapter here already!!

Bruce left his mask down in the Batcave and waves of anger radiated from his expression. He didn't speak after the quiet "Upstairs. Now." and took a seat at the dining room table. Dick entered the room after him and slouched into a chair, eyes down and fingers fidgeting. Alfred followed, inspecting a nonexistent piece of lint on his lapels so he didn't have to make eye contact with either of them.

"I don't expect you to like it, but I expect you to respect my decisions- or at least talk to me before you assault someone." Bruce could practically hear Dick's teeth grinding.

"Respect your decisions? Joker- The Joker was in the Batcave! What was I supposed to think?" His tone of voice was so indignant he could barely get his point across through the scoffing and the hand waving.

"If you had talked to Alfred before jumping to conclusions, you might have-"

"Jumping to conclusions? I can't imagine a good reason for him," Dick pointed vehemently towards the doorway they had come through, "to be down there."

"Down there locked up and in handcuffs." Bruce glanced over to Alfred. "And posing a danger to no one." Alfred nodded.

"He always poses a danger. He is dangerous." Dick dragged a hand down his face. "I thought he had gotten away last night, but no. You do realize you're harboring a criminal, right?"

"And I thought you were supposed to be taking time off as Robin because finals were coming up." Bruce eyed the glaringly obvious Robin costume that Dick was still wearing.

"Look I-"

"You need to be studying. I'm not going to let you be a slacker." Nodding towards Alfred, Bruce stood up. "Can you prepare a room for tonight? It's already late and I'm sure that Dick wants to be at class bright and early tomorrow, isn't that right, Dick?" Dick stood too, hands pressed against the table as Bruce turned to leave.

"Wait, no. Bruce. You can't dad your way out of this situation." Damnit. He looked at Alfred again, but the butler shrugged and made his way out as unobtrusively as possible. "You still need to tell me why you've got Gotham's most hated clown locked in your basement. I know it isn't because of his stunning personality."

"Somethings wrong, and I need to figure out what. You need to get some sleep. I'll talk to you in the morning." Bruce walked through the doorway, a quiet sigh following him down the stairs and into the dark.

Joker sat in the bathtub. The curtain was drawn and he stared down at his chained hands. The day had been going so well. He was out of Arkham, he was in the Batcave, and Batman had just defended him from Robin of all people. The knowledge that the Dynamic Duo weren't getting along usually would have tickled him to no end. But when Robin started shouting at him, when he realized that Batman wasn't there...

He didn't like it when he wasn't in control. It made him angry, that the Boy Wonder could pick him up like that, yell at him and push him around. He should be the one with the power, the one with people groveling at his feet, who could get things done, get Batman to dance with him. But tonight he had frozen, choking on his own laughter as a man dressed in spandex and a sparkly cape held him on his toes and screamed in his face.

He realized that he was gnawing on his bottom lip, skin peeling and blood flowing into his mouth and down his chin. Wiping it away with the inside of his shirt, Joker felt tears roll down his face. He wasn't sad or angry, he didn't feel helpless. He felt empty, adrift. He felt like laughing.

Then he did, specks of blood flying from his lip and eyes watering. It sounded forced, more like a shuddering cough than anything else. Doubled over clutching his stomach he laughed because he had no words to convey the wrongness that he felt. The imbalance. He wheezed, and the shuddering laughs faded to crazed giggles muffed with the hem of his shirt. Joker’s eyes were dry, and they stared upwards when the shower curtain was pulled aside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also thanks to http://whiskie.net/tumblr/knittingdrums for letting me listen to tainted love playing from another room on repeat for several hours which is what let me act lay write this chapter.


	6. He just wants to feel pretty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giggles and some feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who just played Batman: Arkham Asylum and has City all lined up to play next

Three days had passed, and somehow the Batcave managed to get boring. Probably because he was rarely allowed out of the stupid bathroom that he'd been locked in when he first arrived. They'd moved a cot in there, but it was barely any different from one of the solitary confinement cells back at Arkham. What fun was getting inside the Batcave when there wasn't even anything to do. Honestly, if he had the choice he'd be back at Arkham. It was much easier to escape there.

Joker was pulled from his complaining when the door cla-chunked open to reveal Batman. He still hadn't gotten used to seeing him in just the mask. It looked almost like someone dressed up for Halloween. But the scars on his forearms, the muscle beneath the shirt that clung to his frame, it was Batman through and through.

When he first arrived, after the exhilaration of finally being in the Batcave, he had begun to worry about learning Batman's secret identity. Here, in the Batcave, was likely the closest Batmans two worlds ever came. The thought that he might figure out who Batman was during the day left him conflicted. 

Of course he wanted to reveal who Batman was, to unmask him before all of Gotham so that they'd see the man behind the bat! But then again, a little niggling voice in the back of his head whispered that he might be disappointed. If the bat is unmasked than whats the point anymore. He can't be some average Joe who decided to go extreme furry and start beating on Gotham's filth. No, the Bat is more than that. They're the same, two crazies and a whole lot of issues, but they're not normal. Joker can't hang up his face at the end of the day and go home. By that logic, neither can Batman. 

"I brought you lunch." Joker blinks up at him, smiling benignly. He lays on his back on the cot, hand folded across his chest. They aren't handcuffed when he's in here, with the aggrievance of another shouting match he could just barely hear through the door

"Send my compliments to the chef, won't you?" He bit back, batting his eyelashes up at Batman. As much as they could be batted, seeing as they won't give him back any of his cosmetics. Or his clothes. They keep giving him oversized shirts and sweatpants that he's sure where Batmans at some point. He found a bullet hole in one.

"You have to eat this, alright? If you don't I'll have to force you." Batman said, grinding his teeth. The deprivation of his personal effects had brought on the only kind of resilience he could muster. He had starved himself before, so he was prepared for consequences. Batman didn't seem to be. His knuckles went white as he tried to stop his fist from shaking. It was almost like he cared. 

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," Joker yawned, draping his arm lazily over the side of the cot. "what time is it, Batsy? I've been in here so long I plumb forgot."

"Do you want something other than the time? Because tiptoeing around what you're actually after is the least likely way you'll get it." 

Oh. Come to think of it, had he mentioned that the fasting was in protest of his makeup getting impounded? 

He started to giggle. "Whoopsie." A snort, and then he had to flip onto his stomach so he didn't choke. "I'd like my lipstick back, pretty please. Along with everything I had in my coat pockets. And the coat. Really I just need my stuff back, Bats. You've been dressing me in these drab rags," he pulled at the collar of his shirt, "without so much as a splash of color!"

Batman hesitated. He turned away and made to walk through the door. 

"Eat and I'll see what I can do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't get everything I wanted in this chapter but the second I thought about extending it past 800 words snaked started physically manifesting in my house so.
> 
> BUt im feeling inspired so double update this week?? maybe???


	7. Well Now Where Can Batman Drive Around And Think About Emotions Huh?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its plot time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey sorry 4 the late update I got hit on the head with a boom twice so I might have a concussion but hey at least I wrote something

Bruce faced a dilemma. 

He sat in the library, laptop on his lap and the cosmetics he'd confiscated from Joker sitting on the side table next to him. He picked up a tube of- something and turned it around in his hands, looking for some kind of brand name. He had scanned everything when he took it, just to make sure there wasn't a bomb, or poison gas hidden in the various containers, but they were all clean. Bruce frowned, setting it down. He pulled up google and started to type 'makeup' into the search bar, a little embarrassed that he was going to such lengths when he really didn't need to. 

He groaned as the computer told him there were over nine million search results. Massaging his temples, clicking on the first result. He vaguely remembered some model who had stayed the night once putting on her makeup the next morning. He had come up behind her in the bathroom and said something cheesy about how she looked ever prettier without her makeup, and she had laughed, and given him a kiss. Now he didn't remember what had happened with her. Or even her name. 

But it didn't matter now, and he was stupid for worrying about the makeup. It didn't matter if he kept these or bought new ones. Keeping Joker alive while he could figure out what to do was the main priority. 

The door slammed open, Bruce closing his laptop and looking over to see Dick, winded and wild-eyed. 

"Dick, what's-" Bruce began, standing and walking towards the door. 

"Joker's escaped." Dick glared up at him as Bruce leaped from his chair and strode towards the door. 

"And he stole the Batmobile." Bruce kept walking, furiously trying to think of a way Joker could have escaped. He had installed security cameras, high tech defense, a system of electric shocks. A good old-fashioned deadbolt for god's sake. How could he have possibly escaped? 

When he got down to the Batcave Bruce grabbed his cowl, connecting to Barbra and quickly explaining the situation. He scanned the surrounding area, finding that the lock had not been tampered with and that the security footage had been wiped from the Batcomputer. The Batmobile was in fact nowhere to be seen. 

"Nobody's reported anything suspicious," Barbra muttered, "probably because it's your car. People don't complain about it anymore. Do you want me and Robin to help you do a grid search of the city...?" 

"No, I should do this alone." He held up a hand to stop the exclamations of indigence that were sure to come out of Dick. "I'm the one who let Joker into the Batcave, I should be the one to go catch him now. And didn't I tell you to focus on college? You need to pass these midterms." The boy wonder's shoulders slumped, and he trudged back up the steps to the manor without complaint. 

"I have a tracker in the car, so I should be able to find him without much trouble." Batman set the computer to locate it while he put on the rest of his suit. When he came back the computer had pulled up a map of Gotham and a red dot was pinging where Joker should be. 

The dot was steadily moving away from Arkham asylum. 

He cursed, uploading the information to his suit and pressing the button to bring out the Batpod. If Joker had just been to Arkham Asylum it could only mean that he was there to get someone out. 

The motorcycle roared out of the cage and into the night, and it was kind of funny, that a couple minutes ago the only trouble Joker was causing was duress over lipstick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also everybody in the batfam (bruce, Barbra, dick, and Alfred) know the secret identities and such because its easier. Barbra is Not Oracle at this point (as much as I love oracle) because she is still batgirl. She's just good with technology and has access to her dad's work computer.


	9. Wow more feelings. Is it a recurring theme?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joker gets some advice from the only semi-functional couple that he knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry about the late update (also it's 1:35 in the morning oh no) but I got a concussion and couldn't look at screens until I felt better. Hope everybody understands and I'm making up for it with a chapter that's nearly Double the length of the usual ones. Whoops

CH. 8

Harley Quinn lay on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. This was not much different from the past couple weeks where she also lay on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. She started naming the individual cracks last week, after the warden stopped letting her go out into the common room. She didn't think anybody was allowed in the common room anymore. 

She sighed, eyes flicking around her barren cell. Someone ran past the front wall, yelling something into a radio. Sitting up, she bounced over to the bars, pressing her face as far as she could through them, straining to see where the security officer had run off to. 

“Hey mister! How about you come back here and get what's comin to ya? Why doncha- oh what's the use.” Harley let her previously shaking fist drop down limply. The hallway echoed with the sound of footsteps, an alarm, the muttering of other inmates. Hopefully the whole damn building would blow up, taking everybody and that stupid warden with it. 

“Hey honey, I'm home!”

“Mistah J?” Harley said, perking up immediately. In front of her stood Joker, wearing the guards coat over his shoulders and a keycard between his fingers. 

“You came back!” She squealed as he threw open the door, enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug. “I was starting to get worried, Puddin, but I knew you'd come and get me sooner or later.” 

“You know me, always busy. Guess where I've been?” He chuckled, trying to pry himself out of Harley's hug. 

“Oh I dunno, but does that fancy keycard you swiped let you into all the cells? It's just that the warden’s gone bananas and locked up Red all by herself, and I haven't seen her in forever.” Harley said, not seeing the mild fall in Jokers gleeful expression. 

“Oh what the heck, why not, right? She can come along for our girls night out, whaddaya say?” Joker smiled, walking confidently down one hallway, and then back the other way when Harley tugged on his sleeve. 

 

“Wow, I didn't even know Gotham still had any department stores left to wreck.” 

The three villains sat on the floor of a very high-end department store, the Batmobile ‘parked’ outside. They were decked out in the most ridiculous and ridiculously expensive clothes they could find. Harley lay with her head in Poison Ivy's lap and a humongous feather boa wrapped around them both. Her fingers dropped with diamond rings and a gigantic poofy skirt that exploded a cloud of glitter anytime she moved. Joker had managed to find a sequined suit jacket, blindingly white, that seemed to change colors in the light. Ivy was dressed more tastefully, in a green open-backed dress and more clips in her hair than any one person should have. Mostly courtesy of Harley, who said she didn't look diva enough to be part of a shop-and-feel otherwise. 

It had almost become a tradition with the clowns. When things were really looking like a gigantic mess for one of them emotionally, they broke into a store and played dress-up untill Batman caught them. No pressure to get away, or try to kill anybody. 

“So he shuts me in a bathroom, bat-hroom yeah I thought that was funny too, and just leaves me there. Until his little brat comes and knocks me to pieces. And he took away all my stuff!” Joker said, sweeping arm movements threatening to knock a rack of clothes over. “How horrible can you get? I mean, I've been waiting a long time for a chance to get in that cave of his but to be locked up the whole time? It's just not fun.” 

Harley nodded along, gasping dramatically as Pam rolled her eyes and wondered how Harley could be so enraptured by the idiot who had been in the Batcave and not managed to find out Batman's secret identity. 

“I just feel like even though he's not paying enough attention to me,” Joker said, folding his arms and slouching “like he's not doing it because he cares. And that seems crazy because why would he even bring me back if he didn't care?”

“Well, Boo boo, I didn't realize that Ivy liked me back for a long time.” Harley reached up to poke her girlfriend on the nose. “When we finally actually talked instead of keeping quiet and nervous about it everything worked out great in the end!” 

Poison Ivy smiled, leaning down to kiss Harley on the forehead. “It seems like you're expecting Batman to figure out what you want, even when you don't tell him anything. I doubt he has telepathic abilities.”

Joker let out a frustrated growl, standing and beginning to pace. His footfalls echoed through the darkened expanse of the store. “But he should understand! I've told him, again and again that I'm his punchline, he's my straight man, our comedy duo is the best act in the city, heck, the whole world!” He furrowed his brow and then let out a giggle. “Well not really straight man, but you get the picture.”

Harley sighed, propping herself up on one elbow. “You gotta understand, J, guys are really dumb. And one that dresses up like a freaking bat and karate chops muggers is probably gonna have to take a little time and encouragement to talk about his feelings. At least us crazies see a therapist a couple times an incarceration, how many issues do you think that guy has stored up under that cowl of his?” 

Maybe Joker would have come up with some kind of response to that insight. Or maybe he would have kept pouting. None of the trio would know, however, because that's when Batman showed up. Nobody fought very hard, since it was mostly just a social interaction that he was crashing his way into unnecessarily through a glass display case. He probably caused more damage than the villains had, if Ivy hadn't caused a small earthquake and split the floor apart while Joker and Harley tried to make a run for it. 

But Batman managed to capture the villains and the four of them stood outside the department store while Batman considered the carpool arrangements. He had already decided to take Joker back to the Batcave, even if he had to physically fight Dick to get him to listen to an explanation. And he could send Ivy and Harley back to Arkham by setting the Batmobile to autopilot mode. But that left just him and Joker on the Batpod. Which would be… uncomfortable. 

“Harley, Ivy, get in the car.” Batman said, already setting the GPS to Arkham Asylum and putting child lock on the controls. As an afterthought he sent a message to the warden, telling him that his prisoners were returning. 

The girls got in the car without much complaining, and were soon on their way. Joker stood next to him, still wearing the blindingly white suit jacket. He hadn't said anything since Batman arrived. Now he half-smiled sadly, glancing lazily around. 

“Looks like my rides skipped out on me. Take me home?” Batman shuddered at Joker referring to the Batcave as home, and because he didn't have the strength to make him leave the jacket here. He'd just send money to cover the costs, like usual. Batman walked over to the Batpod and pulled a spare helmet from a compartment in the bike. 

Joker scoffed, “If you're not wearing a helmet then neither am I. You're not the only one with a thick skull around here.” This time it was a real smile, and a frustrated noise from Batman as he put the helmet back and mounted the bike. 

“Just get on.” Batman said, waiting as Joker reacted with mock surprise, oh-my-ing and isn't-this-a-little-forward-ing. Joker's hands clasped around his waist, and the pressure of his chest against Bruce's back made his stomach drop into his toes. Whether that was good or bad, Joker was holding on. 

As the pair sped through the streets, Batman realized that Joker wasn't wearing a blindfold. He'd know where the Batcave was. That was an issue. 

He couldn't feel it through the cowl, but he was sure Jokers lips were warm when they pressed against his ear, whispering. “I'll keep my eyes tight shut so you don't have to worry.”

“Should I trust you?” 

“Tonight I'm feeling reliable. Makes me all tingly, or maybe that's just you.” 

Streetlights caught the sequins on the suit jacket, sending a disco-esque shower of yellow slivers of light over the old buildings of Gotham. Joker was illuminated, holding tight onto what looked like nothing more than a shadow, and his eyes closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im so glad I could get the girls in here. I felt like I was being suffocated by dudes

**Author's Note:**

> so uh that was chapter one I've got about two more already written and will be updating once a week? I dunno. Leave a kudos and a kiss in the comments if ya want more.


End file.
